A/N: Here's a fic I wrote in 2009. It's sort of a repost. I have no beta. All sentence fragments are intended.
Warnings: death, death of children, aftermath of war (not bloody or gruesome this time)
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Prompt: Dust
We were soldiers. We fought for our lives and our ideals. Now we're gone. Looking over the proceedings was hard. So many people crying. Why?
We fought for them. We fought for us. We fought for the future.
We don't have a future, but they do. That's what matters. Those bodies they hold to their bosoms as they weep are but husks. We're gone. We've left them.
As time goes on our shells will be put in the ground. They'll turn to nothing but dust. That's what life amounts to. Years will pass and we'll be forgotten. We will be remembered in an abstract. We'll be some of the numerous soldiers who lost their lives in the battle, but that's okay. We'll be dust.
If those who survived can live on that'll be enough. We fought for the future. Not just our futures—the future. Let them live it and love it. One day they'll be dust too, then they'll understand. When you're dust things make a lot more sense. After all, what does life matter when you're not alive?
Please review. It's nice to know that someone's reading. I'd love to hear what you thought of the fic even if it's just one word, so don't be hesitant to leave a review.